


Not the Plan

by toyhto



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alfie didn't plan this but he's quite happy with the outcome, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, written for a tumblr prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toyhto/pseuds/toyhto
Summary: Tommy and Alfie go to a party together. For business. It's just a coincidence that now everyone seems to think they're fucking.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 18
Kudos: 243





	Not the Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HoneyWhatever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyWhatever/gifts).



> I wrote this for @itshoneywhatever on tumblr for Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up, the prompt was Mistaken for a Couple + Unexpected Virgin and I had so much fun putting them in one story!
> 
> You can say hi to me on [tumblr](http://toyhto.tumblr.com)!

It’s not like this was the plan, alright? It’s not like Alfie planned this to happen, no, absolutely not. He just wishes that Tommy will see it that way and not, well, think that Alfie did this deliberately. Because he didn’t. Really. He doesn’t have the imagination to plan anything like this.  
  
It’s just a happy coincidence that everyone now thinks Tommy is Alfie’s boyfriend or something.  
  
Alfie only agreed to come to this fancy party, because Tommy said he’d want Alfie to meet some people. Good for business, Tommy said. Alfie’s business. Because Tommy owes him a few favours. So, why not, he thought. He’d come to the fancy party with Tommy. The party would be terrible, but he could watch Tommy waltzing around in a pretty suit, so, yeah, it’d be alright. For business.  
  
And Alfie agreed to let Tommy drive him to the party, alright? But only because it seemed convenient. And because Tommy offered. And Alfie doesn’t fucking know these people, does he, so it was easier to come with Tommy. That was what he was thinking about. What he wasn’t thinking about is, apparently, that the good people in this goddamn manor would see them coming together and would just fucking _assume_ they are, well. Fucking.  
  
Alfie didn’t realise it at first. He’s used to people watching him funny. Probably that’s because of his natural charm combined with his handsome face and his modest character. And Tommy’s pretty as fuck. Everyone knows that. So, he thought that was why people were looking at them like that. He let Tommy introduce him to a couple who own a shipping company and he made his best effort at small talk mostly because Tommy was clearly expecting him not to talk about the end of the world or about his dog or something like that. He just wanted to make Tommy proud, alright?  
  
And yeah, maybe he’s patted Tommy on the shoulder a couple of times, but the bastard’s looking _so good,_ and no one in their right mind could keep their hands off of Tommy Shelby. But that’s basically it. He’s been following Tommy around and patting him on the shoulder and watching him being pretty and murderous in that nice suit that’s pretty tight around the arse and smiling at him across the room and telling a few people about how he came to meet Tommy Shelby years ago in his bakery and oh, the man was _tiny_ , but he was _lethal,_ and also bleeding, and oh, wasn’t it the perfect first meeting? That’s it. That’s all Alfie’s done.  
  
He doesn’t have the fucking clue why people are now thinking that they are together. And most of all, it’s not his fault.  
  
“Alfie,” Tommy says now, leaning closer to him in the crowd. Tommy’s voice is low in a way that’s probably supposed to sound murderous and not, well, quite attractive.  
  
Alfie clears his throat. “Tommy, mate, I didn’t do it on purpose.”  
  
Tommy glances at him sharply. “What? I was going to tell you that I was taking a piss outside and someone came to me and said that we look nice together.”  
  
Alfie bites his lip. “Alright.”  
  
“And that he’s glad to see that men like us can find some happiness in this cruel world.”  
  
Alfie bites his lip again. “ _Men like us._ Alright.”  
  
“Yeah,” Tommy says and lights a cigarette. A disgusting habit, really, so it’s a fucking mystery why Tommy manages to look so good with a cigarette.  
  
“Tommy, mate,” Alfie says, god knows why. Maybe it’s because it’s been a long evening and Tommy’s standing very close to him and everyone’s already under the assumption that he’s fucking the bastard. Also, he’s always had a death wish, according to his mother. “I was taking a piss outside, too, earlier. When you were flirting with the earl’s wife, I suppose.”  
  
“I wasn’t flirting.”  
  
“Good to know, mate. So, I was taking a piss, as I said, and this man came to me, I mean, he came to stand a few feet away from me, taking a piss as well. Like men do.”  
  
“Yeah,” Tommy says.  
  
“And then he said, and I quote, _your man is very pretty._ ”  
  
Tommy frowns. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Tommy snorts. “And what did you say?”  
  
Goddamn. So, Alfie fucking wishes Tommy’s not going to pull a gun at him, because that’d be inconvenient. They’re in a party, after all. In a fancy house. And the floor looks like it cost a fortune.  
  
“I said,” he says, “yeah.”  
  
“You said that?” Tommy asks. He’s not threatened to shoot Alfie in the face yet, so things are going better than expected.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“He said _your man is very pretty_ and you said _yeah._ ”  
  
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”  
  
“ _Your man_ ,” Tommy says slowly, “I suppose that means me.”  
  
“Yeah,” Alfie says equally slowly, “I suppose that too.”  
  
Tommy nods. “So, that explains it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Why the earl’s wife didn’t sleep with me.”  
  
Alfie stares at the bastard for a few seconds and then realises he’s smiling. He’s goddamn smiling, because Tommy Shelby is very pretty and a genius and a fucking nuisance and also apparently not going to shoot him right away.  
  
“She said you were looking at me,” Tommy says, putting away the cigarette.  
  
“Yeah, damn right,” Alfie says, “I was looking at you. A good thing you didn’t sleep with her, then.”  
  
It’s possible that he pats Tommy on the shoulder after that, but there’s nothing he can do about it, alright? The man’s fucking _brilliant._  
  
But later in the evening, he realises he kind of can’t stop thinking about all that. He tries to. He says to himself – silently because Tommy’s sitting right besides him in the car on the way back to London – that he needs to fucking stop thinking about fucking Tommy Shelby. Tommy’s not his man. Tommy’s pretty and clever and murderous and everything Alfie’s looking for a in a man, but Tommy’s not _his man._ And Tommy’s not a man like him.  
  
Well, alright, he supposes Tommy’s tried some things, at some point in life, probably, yeah, because the man’s not a prude, certainly not, and he’s been in war, and he’s fucking _pretty._ But that doesn’t mean he’d be interested in _Alfie._  
  
“An odd assumption to make,” Tommy says out of nowhere.  
  
Alfie shifts in the passenger seat and looks through the window. It’s dark outside. “What is?”  
  
“You and me,” Tommy says. He sounds bored. It’s delightful. And a little bit encouraging, if Alfie’s been totally honest with himself.  
  
“You think it’s an odd assumption to make.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“That you and me might be sleeping together.”  
  
“Yeah,” Tommy says, still bored, still perfectly composed. His hands on the wheel are steady.  
  
“Alright,” Alfie says, “okay. Yeah, maybe.”  
  
“You were watching me a lot, though,” Tommy says, the bastard. Of course he noticed.  
  
“Yeah, well,” Alfie says, leaning back in the seat. “You _are_ pretty.”  
  
“Pretty?” Tommy sounds amused.  
  
“Like a fucking flower, mate.”  
  
“ _A flower?”_  
  
“Okay, yeah, maybe not. You’re pretty like a sparrow, yeah, you’re tiny and pretty and I just want to stroke your feathers and also you’re angry as hell and would definitely knock my eyes out of their sockets if I tried.”  
  
“Sparrows aren’t angry,” Tommy says, but now he’s sounding a little distracted. _Fucking hell._ “You’d like to stroke my feathers?”  
  
What good is there in lying, really? Alfie’s an honest man. “Yeah. I’d like that.”  
  
“That a fucking metaphor or what?”  
  
“A metaphor for what?” he asks, his eyes on the road. Tommy can spell it out for him if he wants to.  
  
“I don’t know. You tell me.”  
  
“I really wouldn’t know,” Alfie says, so, well, maybe not an honest man after all.  
  
Tommy stays quiet for a few seconds and Alfie almost thinks they’ve finished that conversation. That’d be a shame, really, but also a victory, because he’s still alive.  
  
“So, you’ve never slept with a man,” Tommy says.  
  
Goddamn.  
  
Alfie turns to look at the man, then at the road, then at the man again. Tommy’s not looking bored now, no, he’s looking almost nervous. And he fucking said it aloud, didn’t he? He said _you’ve never slept with a man_ , right? Alfie didn’t imagine it? Because this scene, this right here, he and Tommy Shelby in the car on the dark road to London, alone in the middle of the night, this would be exactly the kind of a scene he’d imagine. If only he had enough imagination.  
  
“I’ve fucking slept with a man, mate,” he tells Tommy, not bothering to make his voice light. Also, there’s something stuck in his throat. Maybe it’s his fucking balls because this is _terrifying,_ and also the best thing that’s had happened to him since he got to pat Tommy on the shoulder earlier tonight.  
  
“You have,” Tommy says.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Once?”  
  
“More than once,” Alfie says and takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a fucking sodomite, Tommy, remember?”  
  
Tommy doesn’t say anything to that. Alfie should probably shut up now, but what the fuck.  
  
“Haven’t you?”  
  
“No,” Tommy says.  
  
“No?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You’ve never slept with a man.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Alright,” Alfie says, frowning, because this is a little surprising, “but I mean, you’ve done _something_ with a man, I suppose? Someone’s blown you or something?”  
  
“No,” Tommy says. If it wasn’t so goddamn dark in here, Alfie would say there’s a nice shade of pink crawling up his neck.  
  
“You’re kidding, mate,” Alfie says in a nice enough tone. “So, yeah, maybe no one’s ever fucked you in the arse. I get that. Not everyone likes that. And it takes some balls to try. But really, you’ve never tried a nice blowjob between two mates?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Okay, so, yeah, that’s too bad. So, maybe someone’s jerked you off once or twice? A man, I mean? Besides yourself? Because your own hand, that doesn’t count here, mate.”  
  
“No,” Tommy says, seeming a little distracted now, “no, haven’t done that, either. Alfie –“  
  
“No? Not once?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Okay, so, what’s your problem, then, mate?” Alfie asks. “You don’t like men or something?”  
  
That almost makes Tommy smile. Great. “Should I? Like men, I mean?”  
  
“Well,” Alfie says slowly, “when you put it like that, of course you should. For example, think about me. I’m a very wise man, and good-looking, and very humble, and quite rich, and alright, I have a bad knee, but my cock, that’s perfectly fine. And let me tell you, I can be gentle. I can be gentle with lovers, if that’s what gets them going. So, yeah, what’s there not to like?”  
  
“Yeah,” Tommy says, not looking at him, but _what the fuck._ What the actual fuck.  
  
He stares at Tommy. “You’ve never had another man jerk you off?”  
  
“No,” Tommy says, licking his lips. It’s goddamn absurd.  
  
“That’s too bad,” Alfie says and places his hand on Tommy’s thigh. It’s easy enough. It’s very simple. And Tommy’s driving, so there’s not much he can do, except tell Alfie to stop, of course. But he doesn’t.  
  
“Is it?” Tommy asks. He sounds perfectly composed again. He’s perfect.  
  
“Yeah,” Alfie says and moves his palm closer to Tommy’s lap. Tommy flinches but doesn’t even glance at him, so, yeah, alright. He puts his hand in Tommy’s lap, fumbling a little until he can feel Tommy’s cock through the layers of fabric. “Want me to stop, mate?”  
  
Tommy doesn’t say anything.  
  
“Alright,” Alfie says. Tommy’s already half-hard. Maybe it was the conversation that did it for him. Maybe it’s Alfie’s delightful company. Maybe he’s been thinking about this the whole evening, what Alfie could do to him, what it’d feel like…  
  
Tommy pulls the car over. Alfie keeps his hand in Tommy’s lap. Because of the death wish and everything, and yeah, maybe he really, really likes Tommy Shelby.  
  
“Mate,” he begins, when they’ve been sitting in the stopped car silently for a moment.  
  
Tommy clears his throat. “You can’t fuck me.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I’m not going to have your cock in my arse.”  
  
“Yeah, alright. I got that, mate.”  
  
“And stop calling me mate.”  
  
“Alright, darling.”  
  
Tommy snorts but sounds pretty nervous.  
  
“So, gently, then?” Alfie asks. “Because this is your first time and everything.”  
  
“It’s not my fucking first -,” and there Tommy stops talking. Maybe he forgot what he was going to say. Or maybe it’s because Alfie’s managed to open his trousers and push his hand into his pants.  
  
It’s gentle, alright. Alfie’s very gentle about it. He takes his time, and maybe it’s not totally for Tommy’s benefit. Maybe it’s for him as well. Maybe it’s because it’s just very nice to be able to finally kiss Tommy Shelby on the mouth, slowly, carefully, while the man clings into his arms and probably tries to look like a perfect little gangster who’s done this a hundred times. But he hasn’t. That much is clear. He fucking _flinches_ when Alfie finally starts jerking him off, and he’s staring at Alfie as if he didn’t think it’d be possible for something like this to happen, ever, and Alfie takes his chances and kisses the bastard again.  
  
And yeah, he’s very gentle about it, but also Tommy doesn’t seem to break easily in the end. And there was something Tommy said about not wanting Alfie’s cock in his arse, but he didn’t mention Alfie’s fingers, and when Alfie offers to, he doesn’t say no. He says _Alfie_ in a very breathless voice and then lets Alfie manhandle him to a better position, which just happens to be a position where Alfie can ran his fingers down his back under his shirt and further down, and further down, until he’s breathing hard and also has one finger pushed in.  
  
So, yeah, what he planned for this evening was not to get to fuck Tommy Shelby with his fingers until the man comes undone and kind of collapses onto him. It’s just a coincidence. But a very nice coincidence. He pulls his fingers carefully away and holds Tommy’s cock for a few more seconds before letting go of it as well, and then he kisses Tommy on the throat. The bastard’s surprisingly heavy when he’s kind of leaning against Alfie with his whole weight. Alfie’s leaning against the side door and his knee is a fucking nightmare and he kind of came into his own pants, grinding against Tommy’s thigh, and that’s not a very pleasant feel, is it, to have cum drying in his underpants. But all in all, the whole experience was very good.  
  
“Alfie,” Tommy says, breathing against Alfie’s neck, “if you tell about this to anyone, I swear I will do something to you. I don’t know what and I can’t think about it right now, but it’s going to be… you aren’t going to like it. Probably.”  
  
“I won’t have to tell anyone,” Alfie says and pats Tommy on the ass. But gently. “Everyone already thinks we’re doing it.”


End file.
